


First meetings

by Tyrihjelm



Series: God's own traitor [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, Pre-Canon, could be read as pre-slash, though it is mostly light flirting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-15
Updated: 2020-08-15
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:40:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25921450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tyrihjelm/pseuds/Tyrihjelm
Summary: A late hunt brings a young Dean Winchester face to face with a strange individual, and possibly a new friend.
Series: God's own traitor [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1881190
Kudos: 1





	First meetings

**Author's Note:**

> I have been in a biblical mood lately, and this may or may not have been inspired by that. 
> 
> Enjoy!

It all started out with a simple hunt. Dean was still getting used to hunting alone, but he had a few cases under his belt without outside help. This seemed to be a simple case of a haunted object, hidden somewhere in the collection of a rich dude. The ghost in question had been the owner of a local speak-easy that died in the 1920’s; now he kept appearing in various locations around the neighbourhood and causing people to choke to death seemingly on thin air.

Dean was slowly going through the guy’s home, EMF-reader in one hand and a gun in the other. It was smooth sailing, except for the fact that this guy had too many rooms in his house. Like, who the fuck, needed 8 bedrooms when you lived alone? It was somewhere in the third sitting room that Dean suddenly heard the creak of an old door opening somewhere else in the house. 

Carefully, Dean turned off the EMF and put it in his pocket. He raised the gun and walked slowly towards the sound, carefully putting one foot silently in front of the other. He crept silently into the hallway and looked around. Everything was silent. 

Huffing silently to himself, Dean put the gun down and fished out the EMF reader again. He was about to turn it on when the sound of a closet slamming shut echoed down the hallway, same direction as before. Dean put the EMF down again and pulled out a flashlight. He raised the gun and kept sneaking forward, flashlight up but still turned off. Various sounds of opening and closing drawers led the way easily to a room three doors down where the door had been left ajar.

Dean crept silently up to the door. No light was coming from the room, but being closer, Dean could now hear someone humming, only stopping for a few seconds as the sound indicated that a new drawer had been opened. Taking a deep breath, Dean kicked in the door as he raised his gun to eye level. 

“Hands up, don’t move!” The figure spun around and froze in place, dropping a bag filled with various valuables. The guy was young, probably slightly older than Dean. He had dark curly hair just long enough to frame dark, expressive eyes and tanned skin. The man gave a visible wince as something in the bag broke in contact with the ground. 

“What are you doing here?” Dean asked to man in gruff voice. The man squinted in the darkness before raising his eyebrows with a slight smirk. He pointed to the bag on the ground where various pieces of jewellery were spilling out on to the floor.

“I’m robbing the guy, what does it look like?” the guy asked almost incredulously, “but more interestingly, what are you doing?” The guy seemed to regain some confidence as a he lowered his hands and took a step towards Dean. Dean simply raised his gun and pointed it straight between the eyes of the guy and cocked his head confidently. 

“I think I’ll be the one asking the questions here,” Dean answered as he gestured to his gun with a nod. The confident smirk fell a moment later, when the guy simply scoffed in response as he slowly bent down and picked up his bag again. And to make the matter worse, the guy maintained eye contact while he slowly picked up one item at a time. 

“What are you even looking for?” Dean asked, gesturing with his gun at the various pieces of silver and gold spilling out on the floor. The guy shrugged in response.

“Whatever I can sell for a decent enough price I guess.” 

“You didn’t happen to see this old signet ring with some sort of black stone on it while looking going through the guy’s stuff, or what?” Dean asked after a moment’s hesitation and lowered his gun. The guy stopped in his gathering for a moment, seemingly in deep thought before opening the bag and started looking though it while muttering slightly under his breath. 

“I might have,” he answered with his head almost into the bag, “why do you want it?” He looked up at Dean for a second before going back to the bag before losing his patience and simply dumping its contents back out on the floor again.

“No reason,” Dean started, fidgeting slightly, “just a stupid dare, is all.” The man stopped and looked up a Dean, disbelief clear on his face. 

“You always carry a gun when doing dares with your friends?” he asked with a slight huff. Dean opened his mouth to answer but was spared the embarrassment of another weak lie when the man raised his hand in triumph as he held up the ring. Dean reached for it, but the other man snatched it away and kept his hand out of reach. 

“Relax, I assume you’re some sort of hunter type.” The man said it casually but raised an eyebrow in challenge. 

“Well, if you know so much,” Dean started, voice growing tight with annoyance, “you also know that you should leave the dangerous artefacts to the professionals.” Dean held out his hand with a slight ‘give me’ gesture with his fingers. 

“I don’t even know your name, and you’re already asking me for a ring?” the man clicked his tongue in mock disappointment, “you know, I really expected more.” Dean rolled his eyes, but he felt the corner of his mouth lift slightly at the pure nerve of the guy and he hoped the smile would go unnoticed in the darkness. Apparently not, if the answering smile from the stranger currently on his knees with a ring in front of Dean was anything to go by. 

“My name is Dean, now give me the ring before anyone gets hurt.” The stranger gave a small laugh in response. 

“Such a romantic. Pleased to meet you, my name is Judas, and this is hardly the most idyllic setting, but I am on my knees and holding a ring, so..” As the stranger, Judas, trailed off, Dean gave a reluctant amused huff, before stopping. 

“Wait a minute,” Dean said, now, finally putting his gun away into the back of his pants. “You’re named Judas? Like- “

“Yes, like the fourth son of Jacob, from the old testament, book of genesis,” Judas interrupted. “Here you go,” he said as he held out the ring, “what are you planning to do with it?”

“Burn it,” Dean answered as he reached out and took the ring. He looked it over before bringing out the EMF reader and double checking. The EMF turned on with a whine and Dean shoved the ring in his pocket. 

“How do you know about hunting anyway?” Dean asked, taking out his gun again as he prepared to move out again. Judas swept his loot into his bag again and got to his feet. 

“Oh, you know,” Judas started with a shrug, “you pick up on these sorts of things when you travel. I’ve been around the block a couple of times, so to speak.” Dean knew his disbelief was clear on his face if the smirk on Judas’ face was anything to go by. Dean maintained eye contact and Judas caved quickly.

“Okay, you got me,” Judas said. “I had a fried with certain abilities, I guess you could call them, and learning about him sort of led me into a rabbit hole of supernatural shit.”

“And then you decided on a career as a burglar?”

“Well, someone has to relieve the rich some of all their wealth, and the hunting lifestyle don’t really agree with me.” Judas smiled and shook his bag. “I promise it pays more than killing the dead.”

“Are you trying to tempt me into a life of crime?” Dean turned towards Judas, trying to accurately convey the exact amount of amused disbelief he was experiencing at that exact moment. 

“Only if it’s working.” 

They had arrived at the entrance hall, and Dean stopped and looked back at Judas. The moonlight was coming in through the large windows, and Dean noticed that Judas’ eyes were lined in slightly smudged eyeliner. 

“Well, I can’t say I’m not tempted,” Dean started, going for cocky but missing by a mile as he took a small, hesitant step towards Judas. Dean opened his mouth to say something more, but before he could say something, he was thrown across the room. His head smacked against the wall and stars flashed before his eyes as he slumped to the floor in a heap. 

The windows exploded inwards in a hail of glass and Dean only barely managed to throw up his hands to avoid getting a face full of glass. Pushing himself up, Dean saw the shape of a man flicker in and out of focus in the middle of the room. 

The man was dressed in a suit a couple of sizes too big and had a hat pulled down to obscure the upper half of his face. What was not hidden was the dark bruise covering the guy’s neck just above his shirt collar. The man was smiling as he walked slowly towards Dean, form flickering around the edges. 

Dean pushed himself to his feet, stumbling as the room swam in front of him. He looked around, trying to find the gun he lost somewhere in his flight across the room. His eyes searched desperately for a hint of metal when the ghost flickered into being in front of him. Dean was again slammed into the wall as the smirking ghost leaned in closer. Dean tried to push the spirit away, but the ghost was pushing his cold, dead hands against Dean’s throat. Dean felt his hands claw uselessly against the frozen form of the spirit as the lack of oxygen was starting to burn in his lungs. 

Stars were starting to dance in front of his eyes again when the ghost let go of Dean with a scream that suddenly cut out as the form flickered out of existence. Dean coughed and looked up to see Judas posed with an iron poker held as if it was a baseball bat. He met Dean’s stare with wide eyes. 

They stood like that for only a brief moment before Dean bent down and grabbed his gun of the ground before grabbing Judas by arm and dragging him towards the front door. Dodging various pieces of furniture flying towards their heads, Dean crashed through the door shoulder first. 

Judas stumbled out after Dean and watched as he quickly threw the ring on the ground and fumbled in his pocket for lighter fluid and a lighter. Judas’ head was swivelling around, trying to keep an eye out for the ghost. Something flickered into existence, and Judas reached out to tap Dean’s shoulder just as the figure burst into flames with a bone chilling scream. 

In the seconds following the burning of the spirit, the only sound that could be heard was twin breaths. Judas broke the silence with an elated and relieved giggle. Dean simply looked up from his small bonfire with a small smile.

“Considering joining the hunting profession?” Dean asked. 

“I think I might need a bit more convincing.” Judas suddenly raised his head. “Seems like you’re going to be experiencing some of my profession as well. The cops are here.” Before Dean had even had time to digest the sentence, Judas had grabbed him by the hand and pulled him to his feet. Dean stumbled slightly but managed to find his footing as he was pulled along after Judas. 

The flashing lights and the sound of sirens followed them on a mad dash across the damp grass. They burst through a hedge and slid around the corner of a neighbouring house. The sounds of angry, shouting policemen followed them as Judas took a sharp turn and dragged Dean down into some low bushes. Some particularly pointy bushes. 

Even though Dean had yet to make a sound Judas was shushing at him through a wide grin. The angry voices of the policemen drew closer before fading away again. Apparently, the late hour and the cold and damp weather was a decent enough deterrent against a full search. 

They remained still in the bushes for a while, and Dean could feel the dampness from the ground soaking through his jeans. 

“Does this happen often in your line of work?” Dean asked in a loud whisper. 

Dean could feel it against his own shoulder as Judas did his best to shrug while laying flat on his stomach. “Not usually, but I have had my fair share of run-ins with the pigs in my life.” Judas turned his head to look at Dean, laying his cheek down on the ground in the process. “Though I imagine what you do is not strictly legal either, and you know what they say about glass houses.”

“You shouldn’t walk around naked,” Dean answered without missing a beat. Judas choked back a laugh and knocked his shoulder against Dean. 

“We should get moving before we catch something.” 

Dean got up and extended his hand to pull Judas to his feet. He had cold hands, and Dean simply pulled Judas along towards where he had parked the Impala about a street over. 

“Where are you staying?” Dean asked as they walked. When he didn’t get an answer, he turned his head and looked back. Judas was looking up at Dean almost coyly, tilting his head so that his bangs fell forward into his face. 

“I don’t really have any clear plans for the night...” Judas trailed off with a suggestive smirk. Dean missed a step and turned around completely as he struggled for words. He felt his face heat slightly as blood flooded his cheeks. 

“I don’t really-“

“Okay,” Judas interrupted Dean and placed a hand on his shoulder. “We don’t have to do anything, but I honestly don’t have any place to stay for the night and I don’t know any places that are open this late.” Judas took a deep breath and looked down at his feet. “Could I just spend the night wherever you are staying?”

Dean felt the vague panic that had started to form like a hard ball in his stomach suddenly loosen and disappear. He rolled his eyes as his confidence returned in full force and he reached out and pulled Judas along by the hand with a jolt. 

“Fine,” Dean went against every instinct screaming to not trust this stranger. But there was still one small part, the part of a lonely young man, that was begging for just a small chance at human contact. Dean sighed. “If you kick me, I will throw you straight to the floor.”

“Whatever you want,” Judas said as he caught up to Dean. They walked side by side, and while Dean tried to let go of Judas’ hand, Judas simply adjusted their grip to intertwine their fingers. “I’m more of a lover than a fighter anyway.” 

As Dean’s head snapped around to look at Judas, he was met with a smile that could only be described as angelic. And for all he tried to maintain a neutral, if slightly disapproving expression, a small smile still made its way across Dean’s mouth. Somehow Dean had a sneaking suspicion that he might just have a acquired something of a friend.


End file.
